All down to me

Big decisions and lots of fear, I need to think and think so clear
There's lots at stake and lots to lose, but lots to gain in paths to choose
I'm on my own, there's only me, no one sees it like I see
The glove that fits is mine alone, I know the feel, I know what's home  

Then people throw their words around, easy for them with no chips down
Their idle thoughts like seeds to sow, take root if let and spoil the show
Their lack of thought so imprecise, meaning well and being nice
But nice is little help to me, when all's at stake with what's to be

At times I sense an inner alarm, faint warnings of Machiavellian harm  
How 'nice' might be a big façade, where monsters of envy deeply parade
And hidden agendas paint what's said, with little thought of damaging my head
So I'll trust my instincts from life on the block, on when to trust, and when to not 

And through these days I'll steer my ship, through stormy waves and as winds whip
Restlessly waking in the midst of night, turning my thoughts in the waxing of light
Hoping to hope it all goes my way, playing back words that some people say
Carefully navigating dangerous seas, but ultimately realising it's all down to me.